


Rough and Reverent

by pippen2112



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: (Briefly mentioned) - Freeform, Awkward Conversations, Background Poly, Campaign 2 (Critical Role), Consensual Non-Consent, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Forced Orgasm, Held Down, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Misuse of Zone of Truth, Multi, Overstimulation, Polynein (Critical Role), Rough Sex, Sex Magic, Size Difference, Size Kink, Teasing, Zone of Truth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 16:05:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17831750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippen2112/pseuds/pippen2112
Summary: For the first time in days, Fjord feels the knot in his chest slacken. He breathes in the crisp air, colder and colder the farther north they go, and does his best to relax. It’s a long journey back into the Empire, and then they’ll have the war to deal with.Around mid-afternoon, Caduceus nudges Fjord with his knee. “I wanted to ask you something, Mr. Fjord,” Caduceus says, his rumbling voice surprisingly quiet; if he hadn’t nudged Fjord before he spoke, Fjord might not have heard him.Brow furrowing, Fjord checks over his shoulder for any eavesdroppers; Caleb has his nose buried in one of his books, Beau and Jester are doing acrobatics from rock to rock along the roadside, and Yasha and Nott are seated on the back of the cart scoring their performances. Peacefully, blessedly distracted.Glancing at Caduceus from the corner of his eye, Fjord shrugs. “Shoot.”“About our last night in Nicodranas.”And just like that, the knot winches tight, winding him in the process.





	Rough and Reverent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zambo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zambo/gifts).



> Once again, huge shout out to the AD CritGoals discord for the communal plotting of this fic. Y'all are all menaces and I love you so much. Special thanks to Zambo for opening my eyes to the glory that is Fjord/Caduceus.
> 
>  
> 
> A brief word of caution. The Zone of Truth spell appears twice in this fic, the first time as a surprise in a brief flashback, the second in the present and performed with the explicit concent of all parties. There is also a very, very brief discussion of consennsual non-consent/rape play at the very end. If any of these things bother you, please back out.

Fjord’s been behaving differently, has been since the morning they set out from Nicodranas headed back toward the Empire. He knows it, knows he’s been quiet, and short-tempered, and quick to give the other members of the Mighty Nein a wide berth. The disquiet rattles in his bones, an anxious twitch lingering under his skin. So far, no one’s called him on his weird behavior, but he can’t help walking on eggshells around his newfound family.

As he packs up his bedroll and helps break down camp, Fjord tries to shrug off some of his apprehension. It’s a new day, they’re on the road again, and no one’s brought up their last night at the Lavish Chateau since their first day on the road. Jester hasn’t shot him any knowing looks, Beau hasn’t made any more sly comment, and this morning, Caleb met his eye over the campfire without turning beet red. Progress. They’ve all let it go; he might as well do the same.

He joins Caduceus helming the cart, his eyes trained on their surroundings as Caduceus gentles the horses into a steady trot. For the first time in days, Fjord feels the knot in his chest slacken. He breathes in the crisp air, colder and colder the farther north they go, and does his best to relax. It’s a long journey back into the Empire, and then they’ll have the war to deal with.

Around mid-afternoon, Caduceus nudges Fjord with his knee. “I wanted to ask you something, Mr. Fjord,” Caduceus says, his rumbling voice surprisingly quiet; if he hadn’t nudged Fjord before he spoke, Fjord might not have heard him.

Brow furrowing, Fjord checks over his shoulder for any eavesdroppers; Caleb has his nose buried in one of his books, Beau and Jester are doing acrobatics from rock to rock along the roadside, and Yasha and Nott are seated on the back of the cart scoring their performances. Peacefully, blessedly distracted.

Glancing at Caduceus from the corner of his eye, Fjord shrugs. “Shoot.”

“About our last night in Nicodranas.”

And just like that, the knot winches tight, winding him in the process. _Should’ve know you weren’t out of the woods yet._

Their last night in Nicodranas, after an evening of heavy drinking, Jester had shepherded everyone into one room and thrown up Zone of Truth before anyone could ask what she was after. Why she thought casting Zone of Truth was a fine idea, he’ll never know—that’s a lie, he knows the Traveler thrives on chaos, it’s just been a while since Fjord’s borne the brunt of it.

 _“Just to clear the air,”_ Jester had said with an innocent grin as the spell took effect.

After a few drinks too many, Fjord had been… _affected._ And once his stupid mouth had started, he hadn’t been able to stop. The rest of the Mighty Nein, well, they’re a curious bunch, so he can’t exactly begrudge them for just doing what came naturally, but that doesn’t mean he’s gotta be comfortable with all the probing questions about his sexual history that he’d been dumb enough to answer.

Logically, he knows he’s not the only one who was affected by the spell, but after years spent carefully curating his words, he’s not entirely sure how he feels about such a public lapse in control.

(Another lie. Fjord’s painfully aware of all the complicated little emotions that predicament thrust on him; he’s also not addressing those thoughts and praying they’d fuck off before someone brought it up again.)

Frozen in his seat, Fjord ducks his head and gnaws the inside of his cheek while he figures out what to do. Now that he thinkgs about it, Caduceus was strangely quiet through the whole Zone of Truth debacle. Even if he wants to pretend it never happened, of everyone, Caduceus is probably the safest person to have this conversation with. The firbold doesn’t have a mean-spirited bone in his body; if anything, he probably just wants clarification about something or other Fjord babbled about.

Somehow, that doesn’t comfort him like he’d hoped. Rubbing the back of his neck, Fjord forces himself to respond. “Anything in particular you’re curious about?”

After a beat of silence, Caduceus shifts the reigns into one hand and lays his free hand on Fjord’s thigh. A strangled gasp wrenches out of him before Fjord can stop himself. Ears burning, he swallows hard to dislodge the lump in his throat. He and Caduceus have been… well… they’ve fooled around now and again when they’ve had pent-up adrenaline to burn through after a fight. No one mentions it, but they’ve all seen Yasha and Beau sneak off during down time, or Jester drag Caleb off into the woods when he’s twitchy post battle, and Molly rarely spent a night alone, on the road or at an inn. It’s just how they are around each other.

But as far as Fjord is concerned, he’s usually more focused on getting back into his right mind than chasing pleasure. It’s been a damn long time since he’s had the luxury to think about what he _wants_.

Caduceus kneads his thigh, presses their legs together, and murmurs, “I don’t mean to pry. I only bring it up because while you were talking, I noticed you were reacting.” In lieu of elaborating verbally, Caduceus trails a pinky finger over Fjord’s groin.

Shame burns low in his stomach. Fjord hunches forward, his eyes squeezed shut, his hands clenched at his sides. Fuck, he was wrong. This is the worst of all possible outcomes. Why did he think talking to Caduceus about this was a good idea?

The silence stretches around them, but Caduceus doesn’t prod him to answer or change the subject. He just minds the horses, keeps his hand rested on Fjord’s thigh, and waits. It’s kinda nice, having someone patient enough to wait while Fjord sorts his brain out, but no matter how long he dilly-dallies, Caduceus is be here, waiting for an answer. A pulse of heat swells low in his stomach, churning.

Fjord clears his throat. “There a question in there?”

From the corner of his eye, he sees Caduceus grinning. “Would you like to try it again sometime?”

Fjord goes rigid. His spine stiffens, and his hands clench, and his blood surges southward, hot and heavy. Fuck, how did he end up in this goddamn situation? How does this kind of thing keep happening to him? Oh right, it’s because he decided to have this conversation with Caduceus. _Freakin’ mind reader._ Fjord curls in on himself, hiding his flushed cheeks and wide eyes and his goddamn traitorous cock that is already far too interested in this conversation. Gods, how has this become his life?

Caduceus gives his thigh a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to by any means. I just wanted to offer. You’re not the type to ask for things like that.”

He hangs his head, his face turning hotter by the second. At this rate, he’s probably bright enough to glow in the dark.

Without a word, Caduceus reaches over and palms his groin. Fjord bites his tongue to stop himself moaning or bucking into the pressure. Lips closed tight so he doesn’t make a bigger fool of himself, he lists sideways against Caduceus. All too soon, Caduceus releases his grip, but he wraps his arm around Fjord’s shoulders and pulls him close. “You don’t have to decide today,” he mutters into the hair just above Fjord’s ear. “Just something to consider if you’d like.”

Mouth too dry to speak, Fjord bobs his head in understanding. He spends the rest of the days ride squirming in his seat, but his erection is slow to wilt. Caduceus is kind enough not to bring it up again, but he stays flush against Fjord’s side until they stop to make camp and Fjord can run off into the bushes to take care of himself.

#

Barely an hour into travel the next morning, Fjord start thinking about Caduceus’s offer. Of compulsively spilling his secret desires. Of clinging tight to his pride until just the right question wrenches it from his grasp. It’s… appealing. In all the ways it should scare him off, but he can’t go an hour without considering the possibilities. He’s suddenly very grateful for the cut of his armor, or else everyone would be able to see him walking around half-hard all day.

Caduceus doesn’t say anything outside of casual, day to day chit-chat, but Fjord notices his gaze lingering more than usual. He tries to tell himself the tingling sensation it sends up his spine is just him being uncomfortable. Tries. Too bad even he’s not buying his bullshit.

When they pass into the Empire and spend at night at the familiar inn in Trostenwald, Fjord bides his time and waits until he catches Caduceus away from the group, helping to stable the horses. As he stays out of the way, Fjord mumbles, every inch of him tense and over-warm, “Hey, could we talk in private? After dinner, maybe?” 

Caduceus gives him a long, slow look, and a grin spreads across his face. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Fjord nods with a grin of his own and excuses himself for a long walk before dinner. Tromping through the familiar streets does little to settle his nerves. He gets through dinner on auto-pilot, batting away Nott’s hand when she tries to steal a drumstick off his plate and laughing along as Beau tries her hand at behaving like a normal human being and just enjoying their crazy little family. He does his best not to watch as Caduceus says good night and makes his way upstairs. Forces himself to finish his ale slowly, not down the tankard in one big gulp like he wants, and makes his own excuses to bow our early.

Upstairs, he hesitates at the door, his hand hovering over the knob. With slow, deep breathes, Fjord steadies himself. He’s thought about this over, and over, and over again. From every angle. And try as he might, he hasn’t been able to talk himself out of it. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be everything he could ask for and more. Weirer things have happened.

Fjord opens the door before he can second guess himself. Inside, he finds Caduceus seated cross-legged on bed, his armor and staff carefully piled at the bedside. His head his bowed, his eyes closed in meditation, and Fjord drinks in his tall, lanky stature. Caduceus is lean and narrow, but even seated on the mattress, Fjord has to look up at him. The knot of heat in his gut pulses, sending a surge of blood southward. _Definitely no going back now._

Clearing his throat, Fjord asks, “Am I interrupting?”

Caduceus shakes his head, grinning in Fjord’s general direction without opening his eyes. “No, I heard you come up.”

Nodding, Fjord latches the door, crosses to the opposite side of the bed, and begins taking off his armor piece by piece. His hands tremble as he works open the buckles, the clinking loud to his ears. Looks like that ale didn’t do must for his nerves. He breathes through the discomfort and uncertainty and strips down to his tunic and breeches. Despite the cold night, his shirt sticks to the small of his back, but he can’t bring himself to remove it. There’s still some talk to be had, and he needs at least a semblance of armor if he’s going to muscle his way through it. 

When he looks up, Caduceus’s eyes are fixed on him, intent yet surprisingly gentle. Fjord swallows hard and exhales as he sits at the foot of the bed, his side turned to Caduceus. He wrings his hands in his lap, struggling to find his voice. Fuck, he’s supposed to be good at talking, so why is this so hard all of a sudden?

“Anything in particular you wanted to talk about?” Caduceus asks.

He nods, staring down at his hands as he wills the words onto his tongue. “I wanna try Zone of Truth again,” he whispers. “If you’re still offering.”

Caduceus hums, shifting across the bed until he can lay a hand on Fjord’s shoulder. “I’d be happy to,” Caduceus replies, his tone low and melodic. A spark ripples through Fjord, flaring into heat when Caduceus gives his shoulder a quick squeeze. “Would you rather just talk, or do you want me to touch you?”

Fjord shivers. “Touch is good,” he says, his voice raspier than he expected. He leans into Caduceus’s grip, his cheeks burning. “It helps.”

“Of course,” Caduceus says, and suddenly his chest is flush against Fjord’s back, his chin hooked over Fjord’s shoulder. Nuzzling against Fjord’s neck, Caduceus spreads those big hands acoss his sides. Fjord’s breath sticks in his chest for a second before he reminds himself that breathing is in his best interest. “Remember,” Caduceus murmurs against his ear, “the spell is temporary. If you want to stop at any point, just tell me, and we’ll be quiet until it fades. Ready?”

He nods.

Caduceus holds him tight and whispers, “I need you to say it, please.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and braces himself. “Do it.”

Fjord feels the golden warm grip magic before he hears the arcane words, but it doesn’t stop him from flinching instinctively. The walls in his mind go up against the force before he can stop himself. Fuck, he’s too used to hiding, he can’t help but resist it. _Come on, I asked for this._ He scowls down at his knees.

But Caduceus stays flush against him, warm and heavy and solid. He splays his fingers over Fjord’s stomach, bunching up his shirt as they go. “How do you feel?”

For a split second, he hesitates. The spell failed, and he still feels that all too familiar pressure at his throat, reading to cinch tight at a moment’s notice, holding everything in. Fuck.

_Tell him anyway._

Fjord’s eyes go wide. That’s the stupidest idea he’s had all day, but then again, what the fuck does he have to lose? Nothing at this point, and for the next ten minutes, the spell will be in effect even if it’s not working on him.

“Nervous,” he says, and the single word lifts an unfathomable weight from his chest. He exhales, reclining back against Caduceus, resting his head on Caduceus’s shoulder. “And a bit overwhelmed.”

“It’s alright,” Caduceus replies as he rubs a slow, steady circle over his side. “That’s a normal response to Zone of Truth. Is there anything I can do so you feel more comfortable?”

Fjord flushes and gulps again. “Wanna feel your hands on me.”

Caduceus chuckles and kneads his fingertips into his stomach, rasping through his shirt. “They are on you.”

He tilts his head back and shoots Caduceus a dirty look. “You know what I mean.”

In lieu of playing dumb or contradicting him further, Caduceus pushes up Fjord’s shirt. Calloused hands trail up Fjord’s stomach, the perfect mix of rough and reverent. His eyes flutter closed, and he groans before he can silence himself.

“I like that sound,” Caduceus whispers against his neck. “Would you make it again for me?”

A laugh startles out of his chest. “You’ll have to make me.”

Caduceus hums, chest rumbling against Fjord’s back. “Do you want me to make you?”

His chest constricts, but somehow he answers. “Yes.”

“Interesting,” Caduceus says softly. One hand trails up Fjord’s chest, claws rasping against his skin; the other slides down to Fjord’s waistband. He teases a finger along the fabric but makes no move to undo the laces and reach inside. Fjord bucks into the slight pressure, but Caduceus moves with him, offering no reprieve. “What makes you feel good, Fjord?”

“Lots of things,” he gasps out, trying to get himself back under control. “Like having my hair tugged. Being touched and kissed.”

Caduceus kisses down and back up the line of his neck, his furry cheek tickling every inch of skin he covers. “What else?”

His cheeks burn. “I like leaving marks and being marked in turn,” he admits, offering up something he hasn’t had the luxury to explore in ages which only turns his mind to other such luxuries. “Like being held down by someone bigger than me.”

Humming in response, Caduceus grasps Fjord’s cock through his pants. Fjord arches into it with a groan. When he drops back against Caduceus’s chest, Fjord feels a hot bulge against his lower back, and he can’t help squirming back against it. Fuck, even though Caduceus is seven feet tall on a short day, Fjord always forgets how big he is. How thick and heavy. He shivers. “Like it when someone else decides what I do and what I get.”

“So I see,” Caduceus says.

The arm wrapped around Fjord’s chest stiffens, pinning him against Caduceus. Fjord groans again, louder this time, as he puts up a token struggle. Caduceus responds in kind, straining to keep him grappled; even though he’s the smaller of the two, Fjord’s tough. Just as he starts to wiggle free, Caduceus growls and twists their positions. In the blink of an eye, Fjord’s bent over the foot of the bed, face-down with Caduceus draped over his back. With all of Caduceus’s weight bearing down on him, Fjord gasps. His eyes flutter closed, and he rolls his hips back, silently pleading.

Caduceus huffs against his ear, winded from the struggle but far from giving in against him. “Good boy,” he murmurs against Fjord’s ear. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“I want you to use me,” he blurts, all caution cast aside as he moans and thrashes for friction. “Want you to take the reigns no matter what I say and just fuck me so hard I can’t walk for a week. _Please._ ”

Without a word, Caduceus shoves his hand down Fjord’s pants, heedless of the laces. Warm fingers wrap around his cock, working him in quick, dirty strokes. Moaning, Fjord clings to the bedclothes, eyes watering as he fucks into Caduceus’s fist.

Distantly, he’s aware of his breeches being pushed down his legs, the shuffle of clothing behind him, and a slick, hot length rutting against his bare ass. Pinned as he is, Fjord can’t do more than arch his back and take what’s given do him. He can’t hear himself over his heart pounding in his ears, but he feels every moan tearing up through his throat. Caduceus bears down on him, hand clenching tight around him, hips thrusting against him, and Fjord soaks up every moment.

Before he realizes, his balls pull tight, and he’s spilling. Cock spasming, Caduceus strokes him through it and doesn’t let up. Fjord squirms against the overstimulated, torn between getting away and throwing himself headfirst into it. He moans and keens and writhes, ears ringing and vision clouded. Too much. Not enough. He can’t decide and pants into the bedding, choking his please. With a possessive growl, Caduceus bites his shoulder, and come splatters across his ass. Like he’s a toy to be used and cast aside. Just like he wanted.

Caduceus falls against him, breath hot against his neck for a few moments before he rolls them onto their sides and out of the wet spot. Fjord sinks into the mattress, shivering and satisfied. Humming against his skin, Caduceus pressing light kisses across the bite mark, the warm prickle of healing energy sinking into the wound.

Fjord cuddles back against Caduceus. “Thank you,” he says quietly, too exhausted to be properly embarrassed by everything.

“Anytime,” Caduceus responds. “Though I might’ve torn your trousers. I can fix them in the morning.”

“Got a spare pair,” he replies. “I’ll ask if Jester will Mend ‘em while we’re on the road.”

Caduceus chuckles as he presses his face into Fjord’s hair and pulls Fjord tighter against him. If Fjord’s heart swells, well, that’s no one’s business but his own.

So obviously, his mouth decides to ruin everything. “I resisted the spell,” he whispers. “Didn’t mean to. It just sorta…happened.”

“I know,” Caduceus replies calmly, “and I’m proud of you for pushing yourself anyway.”

Fjord smiles into the bedsheets. “Thanks.”

The quiet stretches over then for a moment. Sleep’s weighing in at the corners of Fjord’s mind when Caduceus speaks up again. “I did have a question, if you don’t mind.”

He’s too tired to furrow his brow. Besides, after everything he’s said already, what’s one more question? “Shoot.”

“You said you wanted me to take the reigns no matter what you said. But that’d be…” Caduceus trails off, thinking hard. “I think I might be missing something. Could you maybe explain it to me? I’d like to understand.”

Heat twists in his stomach. Fuck, of all the things, it just _had_ to be that detail Caduceus got caught up on. Fjord buries his face in the sheet and grunts, “Not tonight. It’s… complicated.”

“Alright,” Caduceus replies good-naturedly. “Next time, then.”

 _Next time?_ Fjord shivers at the thought. Maybe he’ll have his head in gear enough to not resist the spell and make the most of the experience.

“But if you really want someone who can hold you down, we should really ask Yasha or Jester to join us.”

He groans, attempting to smother himself in the bedsheets. He’s not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse that he fails. “Go to sleep, Duces.”

“Just another something to consider.”

His ears burn, and his gut tightens, and it’s a good thing he came as hard as he did or his cock would be rising again at the prospect. “Goodnight, Mr. Clay.”

Caduceus kisses his shoulder. “Goodnight, Mr. Fjord.”

**Author's Note:**

> As you may have noticed, no, they did not clean up after their fun, and yes, they do indeed wake up the next morning stuck together. Clean up after your hanky-panky, guys. It’s Important.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading. Questions, comments, and concrit welcome!


End file.
